Misstep
by marap
Summary: 'Andy clutched the dress to her chest, hands a little shaky.' Andy and Nick, but 100% intended for Sam/Andy shippers. SPOILERS, but mostly wishful speculation.


AN: A quick oneshot focusing on Andy and feeding my denial of Nick/Andy. While Nick and Andy are the only two characters to appear in this, I assure you it is intended for we Sam/Andy shippers. I should have been working on my multi-chapter fic, rather writing something new, but at 2am, feeling gloomy about Nick/Andy, I suddenly had inspiration to write this. It was sort of cathartic and I didn't spend too long obsessing about it, so I apologise if it's a little rusty. Reviews are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! X

SPOILERS, but mostly wishful speculation.

**Misstep**

Andy clutched the dress to her chest, hands a little shaky. The silky fabric puddled in her lap, just covering the plain boyleg briefs she had worn with no consideration of anyone seeing them. The thought couldn't have been further from her mind as she had pulled them on some hours earlier and appraised their surprising lack of visible panty line. She'd applied minimal makeup - _people cried at weddings didn't they? _- and styled her hair, hastily crafting waves which now hung limp over her bra-strapped shoulders.

The ceremony had been lovely. Noelle radiant and Frank looking sharp, nervously waiting for her at the altar. Their baby girl cooing with either delight or restlessness. Frank had said the first, Noelle the second.

As the guests had awaited Noelle's somewhat late arrival (common, the minister had assured them), Andy had forced her gaze to stay on the face of her boss, not travel the tempting distance to linger on the man by his side. When the ceremony began, the effort had been harder but cruelly more important. She hadn't wanted to meet Sam's eyes, or even see where he was looking, as vows of eternal love were spoken.

Later, at the cocktail reception, forlorn and guilty for feeling so, Nick had found her. Looking down at the heels on her feet (blisters tomorrow, no doubt), she'd almost fooled herself into thinking it was Sam approaching. But the gate on the hardwood floor had been too smooth, the footsteps too precise - the movements of a military man.

Nick had made her laugh with a story of Oliver's lapel being gifted with baby vomit. The room hadn't been empty, but when her laughter faded and Nick met her eyes, he had looked at her with a focus that she'd never seem him direct at her before. _Or had she just not noticed? _She had felt like no one else was around. It had been both comforting and disarming. Her hand had almost fallen to her hip. No belt, no vest, she was just a girl. And an unsure one at that.

When Nick had offered her a ride home an hour or so later, she had accepted. She had convinced herself she had been imagining things earlier.

_Don't flatter yourself, Andy. Get a grip. Nick loves Gail._

After all, Traci - who had given her a lift to the wedding - was having a good time and didn't seem ready to leave. This fact alone had made Andy feel even _guiltier_. If anyone had the right to be sad at a wedding that wasn't their own, it was Traci. She'd felt guilty for letting the guilt get the best of her mood, and the complicated feelings of her heart had been giving her head much grief.

_Best to call it a night_, she'd thought to herself, scoffing at the lame, unintentional pun, grateful she hadn't said it out loud.

Tired and relented to the fact that she'd been overanalysing a simple look, she hadn't expected what happened when Nick walked her to the elevator in her building. He had pressed a gentle, lingering kiss on her cheek, a little closer to her lips than one customly reserved for anyone other than a lover.

She didn't know how, but somehow they had ended upstairs in her apartment with Nick's lips on hers. It had happened fast, and she couldn't recall who kissed whom first.

_Or perhaps it had been simultaneous?_

They'd been - for the most part - comfortably in sync since their friendship began. It was one of the reasons their friendship worked.

As her hair had grown messy from the journey of Nick's fingers, their kisses had continued. After some moments, her dress was off and thoughts came swirling into her head as the warm night air swept over her skin. Nick had leant over he shoulder, kissing the valley between her neck and shoulder, his hands grazing her waist. Andy's mind raced.

_What am I doing?_

_This doesn't feel bad, but it doesn't felt right._

'Nick, stop.'

Just two words, and his lips had left her skin with admirable haste.

_Perhaps he'd almost been expecting it?_

Those two words had left her mouth without her even making the decision to speak. The words had been soft, but certain, despite the crack in her voice as emotion fought with control.

A brief silence had passed. Nick had moved away slowly, as if not wanting to appear too hasty for fear of offending her, yet unsure if he had already. He had collected his shirt from the barely disturbed sheets and held it in his hands as he looked at Andy with concern. Then, he had turned away and put his arms into the shirt's sleeves, beginning to button the buttons. Bottom to top, focused on anything other than her.

And now came the awkwardness. Inevitable, perhaps.

Andy sat with her legs folded beneath her, gripping the fabric of a dress chosen in sudden haste on yesterday's shopping trip with Gail. (Gail's patience for Andy's indecision had promptly run out at the fourth store.) But as foolish and awkward as she felt now, the thought of uncovering her skin, even briefly in order to put the dress on? That made her feel even more awkward. Given what had just happened.

Or rather, what _hadn't_.

'Nick, I'm sorry...' she said, an embarrassed heat in her cheeks and a stumble in her speech.

He held a hand to stop her, his head hung low as he sat on the edge of the bed facing away from her, buttoning the last of his buttons one handed.

'Andy, don't...' he said, gentle in tone and perhaps embarrassed himself. 'I shouldn't have. I should have known this wasn't…' he trailed off.

He turned to look at her, guilt in his eyes. She remembered him with a gun aimed at her. Somehow, this was worse.

'No, it's my fault,' Andy began. She blinked away the hint of water in her eyes, wrangling control of her emotions as best she could. But her brain and mouth? She had little control of the messages from one to the other, as she began rambling and pushed her hair back with one hand. 'I wasn't thinking. I mean- we shouldn't do this. We're friends right? It's just that we're both lonely.'

Andy looked up at Nick, his face lit clearly just a metre or so from her. She noticed they hadn't even bothered to turn any lights off since she'd flicked the switches by the front door when they first made their way inside. Automatic, it had been, flicking the lights on. It had been that way ever since she tiredly couldn't be bothered one night and, just a few steps inside the apartment, tripped over the paddle which had then still been leaning against the wall by the door. Sam had put it there that first night, and the day after her stumble, Andy had playfully accused him of trying to kill her.

'By a fall over a freaking oar, McNally? I'm a _cop_, don't you think I'd come up with something better than that?' Sam had said, a playful, pre-Jerry's-death grin on his face. Andy had shoved him. Then kissed him. Because that was normal for them. It just _worked_. For a while, at least.

'It's not for me, ' Nick said, jerking Andy back to the present.

'What?' she asked, confused.

'It's not just loneliness. It's more than that for me, Andy.'

_Oh._

Nick had spoken as if making a confession, a resigned look on his face.

'Nick,' she began, unsure of what to say. Clearly, she hadn't been imagining things earlier, after all. Maybe all those times when she'd been accused of overanalysing, she really han't been. Maybe she was just paying attention. Or seeing what other's didn't.

'Andy, you don't have to say anything. It's okay. It's my fault,' Nick spoke simply, turning to face Andy a little more. 'I shouldn't have let it get this far,' he said, gesturing to the space between them.

'What?' Andy asked, her brain scrambling to process this new information and understand what it meant.

'You don't want this,' he said. 'I don't just mean tonight, I mean... you and me.' His palms pressed down on the bed, strong muscles in his arms visible even through his shirt. He dropped his head and spoke softly. 'I knew it, deep down.' He paused, lifting his head. 'I guess I was just hoping I was wrong.'

'But… what about Gail?'

'I love her, and I always will. But it's not the same as before,' he spoke carefully, as if he'd been thinking about this a lot. 'But it is for you.'

'What? With Gail?'

Nick couldn't help but laugh. A weak laugh, considering the circumstances, but he still welcomed the second of lightness.

'With _Sam_, Andy.'

Her brow furrowed. 'No, it's not. He's with Marlo.'

He shook his head. 'It doesn't matter, Andy. It's the same for you.'

'But it's not for him,' she said, immediately hating that her words were self-pitying, considering how Nick had to be feeling.

'I don't know about that,' Nick said with scepticism, standing and pulling his jacket on. 'You're not easy to get over, Andy.'

'Nick-'

'Don't worry about it.' he said. 'I think I knew I was fighting a losing battle.'

'I wish-' she began, for once at a loss for words.

He nodded and gave a tight smile. Andy studied his face closely, not sure what she was looking for.

Then he was gone. And It was with a final stab of guilt that Andy realised -

- she'd been looking for dimples that were never even there.


End file.
